


Derivative

by Tytoaster



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Crime, Crime Scenes, Hank has a potty mouth, Hanks is too old for this, Multi, Murder and Crime, Mystery, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), buddy cop story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-25 21:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16668697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tytoaster/pseuds/Tytoaster
Summary: Hank's too old to go through this again. All he wanted was to work on the missing persons' cases piling up on his desk, but no, now he has to babysit two partners he never asked for.Two years after the successful Android revolution, tensions between the two races are high. The new Human-Android Reciprocity Program (HARP) in response has trained its first cohort of law enforcers. When one young small-town officer shows particular promise, Commissioner Hathaway takes a leap of faith and appoints Detroit's first HARP detective.Something isn't right in Detroit and it's up to a grumpy Lieutenant, the Android sent by cyber life and this 'Nancy Drew knockoff of a kid' to figure it out.





	1. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the detective's first day at the DPD and nothing is going smoothly. While the detective waits for her supervisors to arrive she scopes out the office to tries and gain more information about her new collegues though means of deduction.

* * *

**Detroit Central Police Station, Monday, January 8th, 2040**

* * *

 First days were hardly ever the best days. As she stood at the bottom of the steps of Detroit’s Central Police Station, full knapsack slung across her shoulder and datapad in her hand, she expected the worst. Today would probably be the hardest first day yet.

She glanced at the screen of her datapad quickly and sucked in a nervous breath; 6:52 AM

“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered to herself.

Expecting the worst had its benefits; she was either always right or pleasantly surprised. But it also had downsides, like being caught off guard when a smiling receptionist greeted her politely,

“Can I help you… er, officer?” The smiley ST300 glanced at her up and down noting her uniform, the small LED blinking yellow on the side of her head.

“Ah yes, sorry I was off with the fairies, I’m offi-I mean Detective Boland, the Human-Android Reciprocity Program’s transfer,” she rattled off quickly.

There. She had said it. Now she waited for the grimace.  But there wasn’t one. The android just blinked as she searched the database. Maybe she really had imagined the worst possible situation, everything was going to be fine. No such luck.

“Wait,”  the other receptionist caught up, “Human-Android-reciprochip-whatever isn’t that HARP, so you’re the Harpy everyone has been talking about?” Yep. Definitely a human.

It was her turn to grimace, “Yeah, that’ll be me.”  She read the name tag on the older woman’s blazer; Janelle.  

“Oh hun,” Janelle surprised her with a sympathetic look, but it didn’t do much to make her feel much better. “Do you have your authorisation docs?” The detective nodded and handed over her datapad. “Anna, my lovely, could you run a face ID and print her a key card?” Janelle gestured to the android.

“Of course Jan,” Anna smiled and gestured for her to move up against the wall for a backdrop, “Let me know when you are ready detective,” Anna smiled at her.

The Detective quickly did a pat down of her unruly curls, straightened her uniform and removed her reading glasses. “Ready.”

“3… 2… 1… Cheese!” There was a flash from Anna’s eyes that left The Detective blinking a few times. She never could get used to all the abilities of different androids. “I believe that is a good photo, in a professional sense at least, and congratulations your identity has been confirmed, please place your preferred hand on the scanner to register your handprint.”

She nodded and complied placing her right hand on the white tile as blue laser scanned her palm.

“Your doc’s check out hun,” Janelle rolled her desk chair over to a printer and retrieved the small piece of plastic, “Here's your key card.”  

“Captain Fowler was expecting you at 7:30, you are 33 minutes and 24 seconds early, all personnel are at a briefing,” Anna informed her.

“Yeah, I thought I’d take a walk around, get my bearings… if that’s okay?”

“You’re trying to make a good impression, right?” Janelle asked. She blinked. The receptionist was more observant than she initially thought. Janelle continued, “You’re wearing a uniform, detectives don't usually do that, and showing up early… hun, you’re the definition of a brown-noser.”  

“I know, but no matter what I do, I’ll be judged, I thought if I at least showed I was a keen worker it would help,” She sighed, defeated.

“You know they’re still gonna rip into you right? look, hun, ever since detective Collins transferred, a good portion of officers have been vying for the position, they’re all pissed that some random Harpy usurped them for a position they’ve been waiting years for… how old are you?”

“23.” She gritted and watched Janelle gasp, even Anna seemed stunned.

“Oh hun, they’re gonna eat you alive,” Janelle shook her head and handed her the data pad and key card.

“I don’t think they would, humans rarely are cannibalistic, they are more likely to socially exclude you and display hostility towards you,” Anna tried her best to reassure her.

“Thanks, Anna, I appreciate your optimism,” she sighed, “Any other advice ladies? Any office rules I should know about?”

“All office rules can be found in the code of conduct-"

“-Anna, sweetie, she means social rules, you know, norms,” Janelle informed her with a hand on the android’s shoulder. “I would say, steer clear of Detective Reed, he’s a real piece of work, don’t let officer Miller corner you and talk about his son, the vending machine in the southern corridor is the only one in the whole building that dispenses giant chocolate chip cookies, put ‘em in the microwave for 10 seconds, makes ‘em 100% tastier,”  she rattled off then paused, “Oh and, DO NOT talk to Lieutenant Anderson before 10 AM.”

“If he is there before 10 AM,” Anna remarked with a chuckle. Both The Detective and Janelle looked at Anna with a stunned expression. Was that humour?

“Nice one girlfriend!” Janelle held her hand up and high fived the android as she laughed.

“Alright, sounds easy enough to remember, thank you both so much,” she fair welled and turned to the automatic doors.  She straightened collar and her jacket and marched forward into the belly of the beast.

* * *

 The bright lights and abundance of desk terminals were already a far cry from the small Chocolay Township Station she was used to.

Directly ahead was the briefing room where she got her first glance at The Captain as he stood at the lectern in front of her new colleagues. She saw one woman glance at her then elbow the man next to her. Then there was a chain reaction of people staring at her, it was nerve-racking, to say the least.

She quickly paced through the desks and inspected the break room and was disappointed. No kettle. No tea. She turned and wandered down the hall.

Toilets, good to know where those are.  She scampered quickly across to the other side of the office and walked past interrogation room and saw a door to what looked like a crypt. Evidence archive, she reasoned. To the right of that, there were the detention cells housing a few drunks sleeping it off. The Perspex exterior cells, complete with a fingerprint scanner were way more advanced than good old lock and key she had grown a custom to.

Leading in the opposite direction she found the south corridor with the elevator leading to records, the forensics lab and public relations offices upstairs. The south corridor also housed the meeting room, a kid’s waiting room and the famed vending machine.  

By now she heard chatter from behind her. The briefing was over.  She considered hiding in the kid’s corner until 7:30. Instead, she checked the data pad, 7:19; there was no point holding off the inevitable. She sighed, turned, and slowly paced back down the corridor.

* * *

 "Oh my god, they sent a kid, is this a joke?" She heard whispered behind her and she tried her best to not show fear. She heard a, "Jesus is she an android? she’s gotta be, there is no way she could be that young."  Followed closely by, “There is no way they would replace Ben with some Anne of Green Gables.” She reached the centre of the room and felt eyes on her everywhere. She didn’t know what to do now. She contemplated making some kind of statement. Like a ‘ _hello I am Detective Boland, I know you all hate me but if we can move past that and get our jobs done, that would be great!_ ’ but thought against it.  She raised her hand in a simple wave, “Good morning.”

“Boland! Office, now!” The Captain yelled.

“Yes, sir.” She hurried into the glass room, eager to get away from the venomous glares.

“Take a seat,” Fowler grumbled. She sat down and shifted nervously. “You’re early.”

“Yes sir, I thought It would be beneficial to familiarise myself with the station befo-“

“You caused a disturbance in my precinct detective,” he stared at her intensely.

“I apologise sir, that was not my intention.”

“I am sure it wasn’t, no doubt you are observant enough to have noticed my officer’s attitude toward you, and I also believe you are smart enough to realise the pressure HARP has put on my ass,” he gritted. “I’ll be honest with you detective, I don’t want you here, no one does but for the sake of our country’s future and publicity we all have to suck up our pride and deal with entitled shits like you.”

Oh, fantastic. This was getting off to a great start.

But The Captain wasn’t finished.

“Now if you were a normal transfer I would just let you slip into Detective Collins role, work with Detective Reed to bring you up to speed, but because Gavin is a walking HR complaint and HARP sent some cabbage patch kid, I am going to put you under Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Connor’s supervision for a few weeks. So, let me make myself clear; do as you are told and stay out of everyone's way and when this political stunt blows over and you can fuck off back to whatever county station you stumbled out of.”

This was so much worse than she anticipated. She thought that at least The Captain would be somewhat understanding and professional.  She wasn’t some entitled shit, she worked hard to apply for this. She was the best HARP had. She was not undeserving, she could understand people’s frustration at her getting such a senior position after only two years on the force. But she was capable, the best candidate for the position. This was her mission.  She just needed to prove herself. There was no way she would do that by ‘just staying out of everyone’s way.’ She was purposed for more than being a HARP poster girl.

“Captain, you have made it clear that I am not welcome, and I honestly had no intention of usurping the system, but with all due respect, HARP understands the pressure this position in the DPD has on the reputation of both parties. I assure you, they have not sent just any HARP officer, I am one of the best candidates HARP has to offer and I am eager to become an invaluable asset to this precinct and I pledge to give my best in any assignment, I ask that you give me a chance,” she justified respectfully.

“You want a chance detective? This is your chance, don’t screw it up or I’ll have you out of here faster than you can say fucking Human-Android Reciprocity Program!” He dictated. “Now get out of my office.”  

She stood and pushed her chair in, “Thank you, captain, I am keen to work with-“

“Close the door on your way out!”  

“Yes sir, good day sir,” She sighed and hung her head as she left the glass cage and entered back into the main office. Again all eyes were on her briefly before they all flicked back to what they were doing. She exhaled a deep breath and tried her best not to cry.  

* * *

 Searching the desk name tags she found Lieutenant Anderson’s and glanced around. It appeared that Anna was right, The Lieutenant seemed to be a habitual latecomer.  Sighing with boredom she ignored the dirty looks as she inspected The Lieutenant’s desk. Was it weird to snoop? Yes, but, her chances of making a good impression would be increased if she could find a common interest.  She took a breath, put on her reading glasses and got to work.

 

> Overall state of desk: _messy but workable, disorganised… but gets job done_
> 
> Thorough whiteboard usage: _magnets and tape, using divider as well as a whiteboard, old-fashioned, likes physical copies, probably born late to mid-1980’s, most likely hates technology…  hah what's the bet he has vinyl._
> 
> Sequential display method _: visual learner, artistically inclined yet methodical, mostly probably likely likes music, sport and movies, but not musicals, theatre or finer arts_
> 
> _What is that?_

She had her glasses read her the logo.

 

> Basketball cap: _Detroit Gears… likes sport confirmed… and it’s basketball, urgh he is one of those people_
> 
> Strong statement Stickers: _“if I wanted to be ignored I would talk to my ex-wife”… divorced and happy? Gruff and tough personality and wants people to know it… possible tough guy act?... for my sake I Hope it's tough guy act and he is secretly softy._
> 
> Music player:  _confirmed music lover… what genre? Rock? Retro? Jazz?... maybe I should.. no look but don't touch, come on girl that's weird_
> 
> Multiple Donut boxes, four pack, glazed:  _a bit of a sweet tooth as original to flavored glaze ratio is disappointingly low… Fast food fan? Not concerned with cholesterol…  anyway likes flavoured glazed doughnuts… the worst kind_
> 
> Desk orientation: _right-handed… hey something in common... yay._
> 
> Chair has hair: _human, no, dog! cat? No dog! big dog, big enough to jump up to chest level, brown and white, boxer or great Dane… no dog is fluffy, shedder… Beethoven dog? Lassie dog? No, bigger than Lassie… anyway, DOG! He likes dogs… common interest found._
> 
> Work picture, red ice task force: _decorated officer, bright...but looks like a real millennial, young for lieutenant, is that Fowler? Friends with Fowler?_
> 
> Stray serviettes: _some look oily, chips and burger? Fast food lover confirmed… maybe can’t cook?_
> 
> Two mugs, dirty and one-half empty: _likes coffee, but not coffee snob... tired? neglectful or not at desk often?_
> 
> Dead bonsai tree: _not at desk often confirmed, also plant most likely sentimental since dead but still on desk... Can’t blame him though bonsai are difficult to maintain_.

The last object to drew her attention was a small photo frame right next to the terminal. Its placement suggested it was important to him. She stared at it. It appeared to be the Lieutenant with someone he cared about, a friend, an… android? That was a surprise. Firstly, because she assumed The Lieutenant would not be a fan of androids. But secondly, because she had never seen an android of that model before.

In all her training, classes and days spent with androids, she'd never seen one that looked like him. She would've assumed he was human if it weren’t for the little blue LED that signified otherwise.

Detective Connor’s desk was harder to examine, mostly because there was nothing on it.

It was spotless, save one corner that had a few files stacked neatly on it and a photo frame with the identical picture to the one Lieutenant Anderson had.  Now that was interesting.

 

> Desk:  _neat, only one personal item… android_
> 
> Picture: _android in picture… if so Connor is not a surname, but first and only name._
> 
> Detective android:  _paired with unfamiliar model, RK800 prototype? the deviant hunter, prominent figure in android revolution two years ago._
> 
> Chair is also hairy:  _shares dog? lives with the lieutenant? romantic???... not very probable pose and body language in photo exhibits platonic relationship features… more likely are good friends…  bit of a stretch but perhaps looks after each other?_

She picked up the photo frame and inspected the two figures seeing what she could glean from their appearance.

She didn’t get much from Lieutenant Anderson.

 

> Age:  _approximately mid 50s_
> 
> Hair:  _needs to be cut… probably edgy, connect with music, hard rock and/or heavy metal_
> 
> Dress style:  _somewhere between Clint Eastwood and the uncle parents always use as an example of bad life choices._
> 
> Conclusion:  _Pairing appearance with desk space the Lieutenant is a bit of a grouch and will most likely not care about my personal life and will most probably not appreciate being asked about his. He gets the job done and is an accomplished individual but he will be a challenge to get along with._
> 
> best approach _: Be polite, professional and respectful._

“Yeah, not very helpful,” she scolded herself and focused on the android.

Androids’ appearances were a bit more telling than humans. As they were specifically designed for specific tasks, their appearance would often give away a lot about them. Of course, presumptions were not always correct as deviants did develop different personalities. But their original programming and design provided a good base to work from.

 

> Build: _tall, light, good for running and fighting, but not acrobatic or extremely speedy, can be intimidating if need be_
> 
> Appearance:  _aesthetically pleasing features, programed to be approachable and friendly_
> 
> Brown eyes: _dual function innocent looking but also dark irises, hides pupil dilation, good for interrogation_
> 
> Detective function _: observant, perhaps programed with basic psychological and biological analysis capabilities, most probably determined to solve cases due to programing... pair with desk space, a diligent worker_
> 
> Detective Prototype: _most likely kinesthetic-empathetic learner and naturally inquisitive_
> 
> Conclusion;  _most_   _likely friendly,  definitely determined and curious, probably hard to piss off, undoubtedly can hunt someone down and kill them._
> 
> Best Approach: _Friendly and sincere_

Well, this was interesting she thought to herself placing the photo frame back on the desk. Now she just had to wait and see if her deductions were correct.

She sat the third and empty desk in the block and spun idly in the chair.  Eventually, after 5 minutes she decided to collect the putrefying coffee mugs and remove the biohazard.

* * *

Entering the break room, Detective Boland made a beeline for the sink. A body blocked her path.

“Wow, is it real?” An obnoxious male voice grunted.

“Is what real?” She asked trying not to sneeze as the overpowering smell of cologne assaulted her nostrils.

“Your hair, I thought carrot tops like you were endangered, were your parents part of a breeding program?”  He snickered looking back at the woman at the table for approval. The woman gave a small chuckle.

The Detective frowned. Focusing on his badge hanging around his neck, she tried to make out the name without her glasses. It was hard because of the badge’s block letters, but she already could take a good guess as to who the man in front of her was. She looked him head to toe.

 

> Too much cologne and hair products _; Single and insecure about it, displays Peacock like behaviour,_   _Arrogant_
> 
> prefers to immediately antagonise new people _: alpha male wannabe_
> 
> Show off to colleague _: Again, Single and insecure, probably has an absent father and a mother he desperately seeks approval from._
> 
> Best approach:  _Display gumption, show that you won’t be bullied_.

“I was going to ask you the same question Detective Reed, were your parents part of a breeding program? Because the only logical deduction I can make from your behaviour was that you were raised in a zoo,” she gave him a fake smile and pushed past his stunned expression to the sink. She heard a few gasps and stifled chuckles from some officers who were milling around nearby. She had begun to wash the coffee cups when hands roughly gripped her jacket and pulled her back.

“Fucking Harpy piece of shit you don’t talk to me like that, you’re nothing, you hear me? I worked my ass off to get this position! Meanwhile you little plastic loving fucks just walk in after your government summer camp, holding hands with androids and singing kumbaya? You think you can just walk in here after you get your fucking girl scout patch? You think you're ready for the real world?!” He accentuated with a shove.

She took a step back. She had not anticipated a physical reaction but she calmed herself; don’t show fear.

He took a step closer and poked her glowing patch on her jacket. “Well in the real world carrot cake, Harpys don’t last long, just like all those popular Android supporters, they are more often victims homicide investigations than investigators, so if I was you, I’d watch my back.”      

“Are you done, detective?” She asked monotonously.  _Don’t show fear, don’t back down._

He narrowed his eyes and gave her one final shove before stalking off to whatever dark hole he came from. She slumped and let out a huff of relief. She leaned on the counter for support and finished washing up the cups, leaving one on the drying rack. She didn’t drink coffee, but she knew The Lieutenant did.  

* * *

“Hank, it is beneficial to the case if you continue to try to arrive at work earlier.” She heard bickering as she left the break room and headed back to the desks.

“Well, isn’t it more beneficial to the case if have had a good night’s rest and can properly function?”

She approached the pair and held up the coffee mug, “Good morning Lieutenant Anderson, I’m Detective Boland I was assign-’

“JESUS CHRIST ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” The Lieutenant screamed and stormed into The Captain's office slamming the door shut behind him.

She stood there holding the mug, blinking confusion. She glanced at Connor then at the mug in her hand. Was it something she'd said?

Placing the mug down on the desk, she turned to the android, “Hello, I’m Detective Boland,” she held her hand out.

He nodded and shook it, “My name is Connor, I’m the android… detective,” he introduced himself with some degree of uncertainty.

 “Captain Fowler has assigned me to work under The Lieutenant’s and your supervision and I look forward to working with you, I've heard much about you,” she offered him a smile.

“Really?” He tilted his head in a curious manner.

“My HARP training involved studying a few of your cases from the time of the revolution.”

“That is interesting,” he furrowed his brows, “I would have thought I failed a lot of those missions.”

“Well times change and perceptions shift,” she shrugged, then paused and glanced at the glass box. There was an awful lot of yelling and angry finger-pointing. She sighed, “Speaking of perception shifts, do you have any advice for getting on the Lieutenant’s good side?”

He gave her a look she could only discern as pity, “Lieutenant Anderson is a difficult man to get along with at first, but be patient and be yourself,  I have a feeling he’ll warm up to you eventually.”

The door burst open and the older man grumbled under his breath as he stalked over to his desk. He Flopped down defeated, snatched his coffee and took a loaded swig.

“Right you,” he turned and pointed at her, “What’s your name?”   

“I’m Detective Bol-”

“Your first name kid, I refuse to call some random Harpy who just got their fucking pen licence by their last name,” he grumbled. She frowned at his choice of words. Only one person was allowed to call her kid, and it wasn’t Lieutenant Anderson.

“Elaine sir, I’d appreciate it if you refrain from calling me ‘kid’,” she supplied.

“Elaine huh? I was half expecting you to be named Apple or some other weird ass shit, anyway, you can sit there and don’t touch anything.” He gestured to the desk at the end of the three-pronged workstation, between Connor’s and his.

“I can help-”

“No just sit there, shut up and don’t annoy me.” He instructed pinching the bridge of his nose grumbling something about babysitting.

Deciding the this was now her desk she put on her glasses and unpacked her bag. Placing the sticky notes and pen pot next to her terminal. She took out her datapad and flicked the screen on to find a new notification:

**Android RK800 #313 248 317_52 has added you to a chat!**

She did a double take and peeked at Connors desk to see him focusing on his screen intensely.  With a furrowed brow she opened the chat and immediately changed his contact name.

**Welcome to the DPD detective, although Lieutenant Anderson has instructed you otherwise, I would appreciate your help on a current case, you can access the files through the terminal on your desk using your handprint and setting a password. You will find the case in the database, case file no. #00025MP010441** 😃

Her lips twitched up at the little emoji. She knew that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t need her help. He was an android, he was perfectly capable of working a case by himself.

She knew he was being kind. She just wished she didn’t feel like he felt sorry for her.

**Thanks Detective Connor**

**You’ve just made my day**

**You can call me just Connor if you prefer.**

 

She smirked, typed a reply and then logged into her terminal.

**Ok just Connor**

**I’ll assume that is a joke and that you will not actually address me as ‘just Connor’.**

**Yes that is correct, thanks again**

 

Yeah, first days were hardly ever the best days. She didn’t expect her days in the DPD to get much better, but at least there were three friendly people here. And she’d take three over none any day. 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. feel free to leave a comment. I'm open to constructive criticisms and questions. Please don't be shy, it is an encouragement to get feedback and I'm not that scary.


	2. Field Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Determined to prove herself and win the Lieutenant's approval, Elaine searches through a dead end' case to try to find a lead.

* * *

**Central Police Station, 1023hrs, January 8th, 2040**

* * *

 

She could see why the Lieutenant was frustrated.  

Casefile no. #00025MP010441, A Missing Persons Case.

Fascinating.

She had never dealt with one before. Well, not a serious one like this.

Back in Chocolay Mrs Gorman was reported missing almost every fortnight, but the old woman would always turn up in a day or two. She’d be wandering around the lakeshore saying she’d catch ‘that beast’ if it was the last thing she’d ever do.    

Charlie Flint, however, was not some crazy old lady looking for the ‘Gibbernack’. In fact, everything about his case was textbook bad news. It was a borderline homicide case.

Charlie Flint a 19-year-old engineering student was reported missing 4th of January by flatmate Reg O’Dowell and last seen on January 1st, by said flatmate.

Apparently, the story went that he bought some girl back to the flat after new year’s and then left with her around noon, disappeared. This woman, nowhere to be seen. Like a ghost. No one questioned knew her.  No security camera footage captured them, which she found strange considering the apartment block had CCTV. No social media post from anyone on the guests list that night had captured her. No bus or train CCTV had captured them. The only evidence that had that this woman existed was Reg’s description; Around 5 ft 3 in, of Asian descent, mole on right cheek, dark brown hair, last seen wearing a green coat, a black dress, boots and large hoop earrings.

She sat swivelling her chair from side to side, looking at different things that came to her.  

_Was there DNA evidence? She had spent the night, she had to leave something in the flat, right?_

She flicked through the forensics report. Nothing. Only Charlie and Reg’s DNA in the flat.

_Maybe the suspect is an android?_

Witness confirms no model of android matches description.

_Did they use an Automated Taxi?_

None with unknown passengers in the area at the time of the disappearance.

_Did the Traffic Cams get anything?_

Useless without knowing what car they are looking for.

_Street CCTV?_

Hard to check footage without knowing the direction they went.

_Did the Neighbours see anything?_

Statements say nobody saw anything.

_May we could track Charlies Phone?_

Missing and currently untraceable.

Reg was the only person who saw the woman. That meant one of two things; this vanishing of Charlie and his lady friend was a professional job, or, Reg was lying.

She was about to message Connor and ask if Reg had been formally interrogated when she stopped herself.

 Before she went outright accusing their only witness, she needed to have a reason other than; he might be lying. Perhaps she needed a new angle. If this was a professional job or if Reg had killed his flatmate and hidden the body, there would be a motive.

Most people questioned had described Charlie as nice, quiet and normal. But was this true?

She minimised the case file, pulled up Google and typed in Charlie Flint. Multiple social media accounts popped up.

She opened up all the links to each of his accounts and scrolled through his dashboards.  She used the police override to log into them searched through his messages. She was stunned by the sheer normality of this college student’s life. No drama in his private messages.

Messages between his close friend consisting mostly of Memes and ‘Bro where are you I’m here?’.  His posts; mostly videos of him and his friends making weird contraptions, pictures of his friends having lunch, pictures of his cat and shout out’s to his mother’s pottery business. He also had a few messages from a girl 5 months ago asking what time he was free, and two or three intimate pictures. A very casual love life it seemed.

Nothing stood out as unordinary in his social life, so perhaps that wasn’t the right place to look.

She pulled up the forensic accountant’s report. Back home in Chocolay, Chief Ford always said ‘follow the money’ and he was right 7 times out of 10.

She scrolled through the compiled statements. Nothing. The only thing that was odd was how much money this young man spent on his cat. Seriously. He bought way too many pet costumes online. According to the statements he brought more costumes than the ones he posted photos of, it was suspicious but she didn’t know how. 

She huffed and gave her chair another full spin and stared at the ceiling as it blurred.

She needed a new angle again.  She had done what, she had done why. So to get how she had to try when, where and who.

_Okay, this happened at the new year's party, so who exactly was there?_

32 people were on the guest list, mostly his engineering cohort, but more were at the party as plus ones. She looked at the guest list of the party and compiled it with the list of his followers. 16 out of his 98 followers were on the guest list.

 Delving further she searched the 16 friends accounts and found another 19 mutual friends tagged in photos of the night. That was 3 more people than there were on the guest list.

She cracked a grin and fumbled for her sticky notes. She wrote their names and stuck them to her whiteboard.  

Trawling through their accounts she managed to find an extra 7 people tagged in photos and through them, she found another 4 and through them, she found 2 more. She scrawled out the extra 16 names and stuck them to her board, frowning when she wrote the name; Charles Flint. Perhaps they were related? She was going to run the names through the database when a figure in the background of an image on the last account she had found caught her eye.

* * *

 

“Lieutenant,” she called across the desk.

“Lunch break is not for another hour and a half,” he grunted not looking away from the screen.

“No sir, I believe found something pertaining to case Zero-zero-zero-two-five-”

“Name kid, I don't do numbers.”

She grimaced at his choice to ignore her request to not call her kid and tried again, “Charlie Flint, the missing persons case, sir, I may have found some new evidence.”

“I thought I told you to just sit there,” he mused in a tone that told her he wasn’t too upset she disobeyed his orders as he slowly got up from his chair.

“I am a detective sir,  sitting and doing nothing would be a waste of good taxpayers money,” she justified.

The Lieutenant snorted mumbling something along the lines of ‘you got that right’ and came to stand behind her.

“What do you want to show me, kid?”

“We have confirmation that our witness is telling the truth,” She pointed to the picture.

“Holy shit, Connor, get your ass over here!” He called to the android who was in the breakroom refilling The Lieutenants mug. The Lieutenant then looked at the whiteboard next to her and examined the sticky notes. “Who are these people?”

“These are all the people I was able to find that were at the party but weren’t on the guest list, I am in the process of running them through the database now sir.”

“It appears we found our mystery woman, good work detective,” Connor praised as he walked up behind her and stared at the photo. The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow at him and took the mug from Connor’s hand. “She's too out of focus, I can’t get a face ID, but she matches the description.”

The Lieutenant pointed to her whiteboard, “Can you dig anything up about these gate crashers Connor?”

Connor rapidly blinked at the names on the post-it notes as his LED circled yellow.

“Sarah Peterson; one count aggravated assault, charged three years ago. Leo Manfred; drug possession, charged early last year, though he is currently registered in rehabilitation. Charles Flint; 6 counts of drug-related offences both dealing and possession. And that‘s it I’m afraid.” Connor finished.

An outlandish thought occurred to her and she spun her chair around and typed in Charles Flint into the database and pulled up the file, letting her glasses read the information listed.

Behind her, The Lieutenant seemed deep in thought, “I think we’re dealing with a professional job, the lack of evidence is too fishy to be coincidental.”

“I agree Lieutenant,” she nodded.

“What are you doing kid? Connor already looked at that, what, you don't think he did a proper job?”  

“Not at all sir, I believe Detective Connor would’ve been very thorough, I just wanted to print the file, for readability,” Elaine told the somewhat truth and hint the print button. She had found what she was looking for, she stole her theory away in her mind. She needed to find more evidence that backed it up. Currently, it was a bit far-fetched for anyone to take seriously, especially considering scrutinizing gazes around her currently.

“But going back to your thought sir, about it being a professional job, wouldn’t there be a motive? I can’t find one in witnesses statements, his bank accounts or his social media, I was thinking perhaps we should question Reg again, perhaps he knows something?” Elaine proposed.

“I second that,” Connor began but the Lieutenant held up his hand.

“Woah, woah, woah!” He protested, “Slow down, this is your first day, right? As much merit as making a breakthrough in a dead end case like this gives you, I’m not taking an amateur out on their first day.”

She was getting quite sick of this, “It is my first day as a detective sir, but I’ve been on the force for two years-”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Two years huh? Well, forgive me _detective_ , my mistake.”

“If you are concerned about my ability in the field sir, I am more than happy to simply observe you and Detective Connor, after all, you are my supervisors, it’ll be an opportunity to gain experience,” She suggested.

“Jesus do you have an off switch? Because you sound like you should have one,” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, kid, I’m not taking you on a field trip. Since it is a missing person case, I’d like to do my best to make sure it doesn’t turn into a homicide case that means leaving you here to… uh...do whatever Harpys are supposed to do.”

Her fingers twitched against her jeans, tapping a furious rhythm as she kept a lid on her frustration, or so she thought. A certain android noticed her tell and was now pre-constructing actions to take if a physical altercation arose.

“Lieutenant, I must insist that you include me in your investigation, HARP has specifically assigned me to this position to encourage human and android cooperation and utilize my unique skill set to solve cases. Captain Fowler has ordered you to be my supervisor, therefore it is in your best interest to follow his instructions...  Besides, at this rate, I highly doubt I could do much damage to the investigation as you continue to impede me in trying to do my job.”

“The fuck did you just say?! Listen here you-” The Lieutenant began, stalking forward. She let in a sharp breath and took a step back into the desk.

She shouldn't have said that last bit.

He scrunched up his face in anger and raised a finger shaking it at her before and huffed letting it drop to the side. “It’s too early in the morning for this shit.”

“Hank it is 10:34, hardly early in the morning, and time may be imperative, the longer we take to solve this, the more at risk Mr Flint's life will become,” Connor spoke up reminding the two humans he was still there.

“Fine.” The Lieutenant grumbled, “We’ll take an early lunch break and then leave.”

“We'll?” Connor frowned, “Hank, I don't eat.”

“Wasn’t talking about you.”

Elaine glanced up at The Lieutenant in pleasant surprise.

“Thank you, sir,” she smiled.

“Observe and learn only, don’t touch anything, don't say anything, don’t screw up, you got it?”

“I will not let you down sir,” she nodded.

“Great, now get some food into you and get ready to leave,” he instructed. She uttered another ‘Yes sir’ and dashed off to the vending machine. “Connor, break room, we need to talk.”

* * *

 She returned with a giant choc chip cookie and on her way to the break room, swiped her chicken salad from her bag. Time to see if what Janelle suggested was true. She almost turned into the break room but shrunk back when she heard arguing.

“What's with the ‘good work detective’ bullshit, you been treating the Harpy like a fucking preschooler doing shitty finger painting, what, did you download a fucking nanny program or something?” The voice belonged to Lieutenant Anderson. She hung her head. They were talking about her.

Swallowing she cautiously peeked around the door.

“I am being encouraging, Hank, she needs it,” Connor replied.

"The kid walks in here with a job that the government handed her on a silver platter, a job she wouldn't have a chance at if it weren’t for that fucking program and what, she needs a gold star?”

“Yes, Hank, she has been trying to do what she was commissioned to do in an office of people who resent her and with superior officers who have only belittled her and disregarded her efforts and input.”  She watched Lieutenant Anderson shut his mouth and stare at Connor.  “I showed empathy Hank, empathy is a human emotion, unfortunately, it seems that a majority of humans in this building lack it.”

Connor’s tone of voice hinted that his words had a hidden weight to them and The Lieutenant’s reaction confirmed that. She stepped back from the door as Connor left the break room and paused briefly to glance at her, “I’ll see you in the garage in 20 minutes detective.” She nodded then hurried in, sitting down two tables away from The Lieutenant.

He glared at her, shaking his head and muttering to himself as he bit into a surprising healthy looking sandwich. She smirked to herself; Connor probably made it.

Her relationship with the Lieutenant was starting off on the wrong foot.  She chewed her salad thoughtfully as she went over their conversations. It was obvious that the fact she acquired the position of his old colleague because of HARP bothered him. However, she was beginning to think there was something else she was doing that irked him.  She replayed their exchanges in her mind:

 

 

> _“If you are concerned about my ability in the field sir, I am more than happy to just simply observe you and Detective Connor, after all, you are my supervisors, it will be an opportunity to gain experience.”_
> 
> _“Jesus do you have an off switch? Because you sound like you should have one.”_
> 
>  

_Perhaps the Lieutenant does not like my formal tone of voice. Perhaps I am coming off as impersonal. Maybe I should try a more casual approach? Connor did say to ‘be myself’-_

“You ready to go kid?” The Lieutenant grumbled. She wasn’t. She still hadn’t eaten her cookie, but it could wait for her to return.

“Yes sir, I will retrieve my field kit from my desk.”

The Lieutenant just sighed heavily in reply.

* * *

 

The drive to the apartment block was… interesting. For starters, she wondered who issued The Lieutenant a license.

It also appeared many of her deductions were correct. He preferred old-fashioned technology, evidenced by his old manual car. He was also a fast foodie, evidenced by the numerous wrappers and papers she had pushed aside to be able to sit in the back seat. The least surprising confirmation came when The Lieutenant turned on the stereo. Usually, music would help her focus, but the screaming of guitars and people turned her mind to static. It was like she was focusing all her willpower on blocking out the awful racket and nothing else functioned.

She felt a vibration in her pocket.

**1 New message: Connor**

She opened it.

**I would talk but I don't think you can hear me in the back seat.**

She snorted typed a reply.

**What do u want to talk about**

Instantly, he replied.

**My scans are picking up that you are uncomfortable. Do you not like Heavy Metal music?**

She guessed it wasn't difficult for him, he just had to think, he didn’t have to type. She guessed it really a was instant messaging for him.

**No not really i find it distracting. U were scanning me???**

**I only scanned you because your body language suggested you were uncomfortable,**

**I was making sure you were biologically well.** **Would you prefer me not to scan you** **in future?**

**I don’t really mind**

**Just give me a heads up first**

**Okay**

**Unless it’s an emergency, then scan away**

**Noted. Can I ask you a personal question Detective Boland?**

She raised an eyebrow.

**Depends how personal it is**

**What type of music do you like?**

**Oh ok**

**I don’t really have a favourite genre, I like different music for different things**

**I guess it would be easier to say I don’t like rap, Heavy metal, most pop music and**

**My least favourite is: country**

**You said you like different music for different things as if it’s a tool,** **can you elaborate on that?**

 **I associate different genres with different tasks, if i play the associated music while** **doing the accompanying task, it increases my focus.**

**E.g.; household chores = swing**

**Cooking= electro swing**

**Exercise = rock**

**Thinking= movie soundtracks**

**Electro swing? I have never listened to that genre before. It sounds exciting.**

**It’s also good for dancing**

She thought to ask a question of her own.

**Hey connor**

**Yes?**

**Do u think Lt anderson finds my professional/formal tone** **of voice irritating**

**Perhaps a little bit.**

**yes.**

**I wasn't finished**

**Sorry**

**I was going to ask if u thought it'd be a good idea to** **try be more casual? be more personal?**

 **Try it. Hank doesn’t like insincerity.  He may mistake your professional manner** **as fake, or cold and distant. He may also interpret your behaviour as** **what he terms ‘sucking up’.**

**Thanks**

**You're welcome**

**Important question now;**

**Whats ur dogs name?**

Connor turned in his seat and stared at her in what she could only describe as bewilderment and her phone vibreated.

**How did you know we have a dog?**

She smirked at him and looked down at her phone typed:

**Ah so u do live together**

**Yes, but how did you know we had a dog?**

He frowned back at her again.

**Theres dog hair all over Lt’s chair and yours has some too**

**So whats their name?**

**His name is Sumo.**

**Aww**

**You were looking at our chairs?**

**i was bored.** It **was 7:36. Anna hinted that Lt usually came after 10**

 **To be honest, I did the same thing when I first met Hank, though** **back then he rarely arrived before noon.**

Interesting. It appeared that Connor really had helped The Lieutenant pick up his act.

**On an unrelated note, do you like dogs Detective Boland?**

**I LOVE DOGS**

The music suddenly quietened. She looked up from her phone.

“Can you two quit texting each other, I feel like I am third wheeling!” The Lieutenant fumed, “What are you texting about anyway, it better not be me.”

Connor began, “Well-”

“-Dogs, sir,” Elaine finished.

“Dogs?” Hank asked. “Let me guess, you like dogs?”

“Yes,” she answered. The Lieutenant to rolled his eyes and muttered something along the lines of ‘I’m too old to go through this shit twice’. She thought she'd try to be more casual and do something she hardly ever did; share personal information.  “I have an Irish wolfhound-cross, his name is Clifford.”

The Lieutenant cracked a smile, “Is he is big and red?”

“No,” she smirked, like she did every time, “He is medium sized and stoney-blue.”

“That’s a joke right?” The Lieutenant groaned.

“No,” she shrugged. “I thought that name suited him... it also was pretty funny at the time.”

“You gen-alpha fucks have a whacked sense of humour,” The Lieutenant shook his head and pulled over. “We’re here.”

* * *

 "What number is it again?” the Lieutenant asked squinting at the intercom.

“Unit 92,” Connor replied.  The intercom buzzed, there was no reply. She tuned out as Hank buzzed the intercom again and looked around the exterior. It was a fairly normal apartment block. She noted that the collection of letterboxes out the front were mostly empty. A few had junk mail catalogues left in them, but she noted one still had actual envelopes along with the junk mail. Interesting. Turning her attention to the front door Her glasses interpreted the sign on the front door;

VACANCY

LARGE AFFORDABLE APARTMENTS

AIR CONDITIONED AND HEATED

HEATED POOL

GYM

BBQ AREA

NO PETS

NO VISITORS AFTER 11PM

 

She frowned. No pets? No visitors after 11PM? Seems Charlie was a bit of rebel.

“I got the neighbour, she’ll let us in,” The Lieutenant announced. She straightened her uniform followed them into the building.

* * *

 

As the elevator crawled up to the 9th floor, they stood in silence, disrupted by a quiet pinging of metal. She glanced over at Connor to see the blur of a coin pass effortlessly from hand to hand. Entranced, her eyes tracked at the coin as he balanced it on the tip of his finger and then rolled it across his knuckles. The elevator opened and she found herself stuck in place, mouth agape. Connor tucked the coin into his pocket as he casually walked down the hall. She still stood in the elevator in awe. Was it possible for a human to do that? If so, she wanted to learn.

“Elaine! The fuck you doing?” The Lieutenant snapped her out of her daze and she quickly waved an arm in front of the doors to stop them closing.

“Sorry, sir,” she apologised and stumbled behind them.  

Connor knocked on the door. “Mr O’Dowell? Detroit Police, we have a few questions,” he called out.

They waited a few moments. Nothing.  

Connor knocked again, “Mr O’Dowell?”

“He’s not home, we’ll have to come back later,” The Lieutenant sighed and took out a business card and began writing on it.  

Elaine bit her lip. Something didn’t feel right.

“What day does the mail get delivered in this suburb?”

“How the fuck would I know?” The Lieutenant shrugged and slipped his card under the door.

Connor’s LED circled yellow  then flashed blue as he turned around to her, “Tuesdays and Thursdays, Why?”

“Reg has not collected his mail since last Thursday... the day he reported Charlie’s disappearance,” she stated hesitantly.

The Lieutenant glanced sidewards at her then nodded at Connor, “Connor, kick the door down.”

The android obliged and the door frame splintered.  The Lieutenant drew his gun and gestured for the two to get behind him.

They crept into the surprisingly clean apartment.

Suspiciously clean.

“Mr O’Dowell? Reg?” The Lieutenant called out. There was no reply. As they progressed further into the apartment and closer to the closed bedroom door, an awful stench started to become more noticeable. “Connor, call in a team and forensics.”

“They are on their way,” Connor replied.  The trio advanced closer to the door. Elaine didn’t know if she was mentally prepared for this so she hesitated standing a few feet behind the Lieutenant as he cracked open the bedroom door.

“Uh jesus,” he grimaced. Elaine hung her head, that didn’t sound good.

It sounded like they just lost their only witness.  

* * *

 

 


	3. Four day old spaghetti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank, Connor and Elaine investigate the apartment, but things aren't adding up. Curious as to how the Young Detective got such a position, Hank decides to sit back and observe the Harpy in action. Connor is appalled as he realises Hank has done this sort of thing before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: crime scene, Murder, mentioned suicide

* * *

**1511 1st St,  1159hrs, January 8th, 2040**

* * *

 

“I’m sorry Lieutenant, it looks like this missing person case just turned into a homicide, though I think it’s safe to say, I had nothing to do with it,” she remarked staring at the body haphazardly laying on the bed after they had taken it down from the ceiling.

“Door’s locked from the inside,” The Lieutenant noted, ignoring her attempt at a joke.

 _Perhaps that was a bit inappropriate,_ she thought.

Turning her attention to the body she noted the severe bruising and a deep gash around his neck, ligature marks it would seem. Poor guy was garrotted, his neck wasn’t broken. She opened her satchel containing her field kit and pulled on a pair of disposable gloves. Kneeling, she lifted Reg’s hands and inspected his fingers. The tiny fibres she scraped into an evidence bag confirmed what she already suspected.

“This looks like a botched suicide,” The Lieutenant voiced her thoughts.

_Yes, it looks too much like a suicide._

“Time of death approximately four days ago at 1:30 pm, strangulation was the cause of death and the bruising and abrasions are consistent with rope, the fibres in the wound are a match. The severe ligature marks and bruising suggest the victim struggled, however, the locked door and note would suggest this was his doing,” Connor elaborated then paused, “There's a considerable amount of contradicting evidence, someone has staged this crime scene.”

“I agree, this whole case has reeked from the beginning, but I just can’t see how this isn’t a suicide, how did our perp get away, door’s locked from the inside, it’s the ninth floor for fuck sake, there’s no fire escape, there’s no way they could scale the wall and climb the balcony like fucking Spiderman, until forensics gets here and finds something concrete, we’re going to have to rule this one a suicide.” Lieutenant Anderson stood with his hands on his hips.  

_He can’t be serious?_

* * *

 

 Both Elaine and Connor quirked an eyebrow. What was Hank saying? This was obviously a homicide.

“Hank-” he began but was cut off when a crowd of people in hazmat suits filed in.

“The body’s through there, Tina, question the neighbours and see if you can get CCTV,” Hank instructed, “Chris, bag anything that could tell us ‘bout Reg or Charlie’s personal lives, Connor c’mere,” he beckoned him over. He tilted his head curiously and headed over to the older man leaning against the wall.

“Hank, why do you think this is a suicide it-”

“I don’t,” he acknowledged with a knowing smirk, “I wanna see if the Harpy is actually worth the trouble.”

“You’re testing her?” Connor realised, then scowled, his LED blinking, “Were you testing me during the Ortiz case?”  Hank only gave a half grin and pushed off the wall. “Hank?”

“Stand back and watch the show Connor,” he winked.

 Connor glanced around the room multiple things catching his attention but he stood idle, curiously watching the young detective as she exited the bedroom.

Detective Boland swept the living room and kitchen with a glance and then headed for the kitchen. She surveyed the bench and focused on the microwave.  His lip twitched up; she had noticed the microwave’s program had finished.  Opening it, she grimaced at the four-day-old meal his scanner was instructing him to sample. He decided to ignore it, preferring not to disturb Detective Boland by sampling evidence with his mouth on her first day. Besides, although it didn't look like it, Hank was watching them, and Connor did not want to get scolded again.

His eyes tracked The Detective as she made her way to the balcony and drew the curtains aside.

“This door’s unlocked,” she called behind to The Lieutenant. Hank glanced at her briefly with a disinterested expression.

“Yeah, but there’s no way they left or entered through there, this is the ninth floor, it’s fucking January, even if there was some kinda super freak, it’s freezing, no one wearing winter gear could climb those balconies, gloves and coats would make it too hard to grip, also in the middle of the day, someone would've noticed a person climbing up the building.” The Lieutenant Made a good point. Detective Boland seemed to acknowledge this as she nodded and unclicked the glass door. Connor followed her out on the balcony and he began to feel uneasy.

He hated heights. Ever since the hostage situation, that time he died, rooftops and balconies made his processors work overtime analysing for potential danger.

Stratford tower had also been an unpleasant experience. Even as a machine he had been so wary of the rooftop that he had decided to interrogate that deviant in the kitchen instead, which ended up nearly getting him killed a second time. In fact, so many unpleasant things happened on rooftops and in tall buildings, and Mr O’Dowell’s case was only confirming his hypothesis.

 As he turned his attention away from The Detective and calculated exactly how high they were, he heard her talk to him, but her words didn’t register.

“Sorry?” He turned his attention back to Detective Boland and his Thirium pump regulator overloaded.

 He turned his head for one second and now The Detective’s torso was bent over the railing backwards as if she were in some extreme limbo match.

“DEteCTivE!” He cried, panic distorting his voice. He rushed to pull her away from the ledge, but she managed quite fine without his assistance, simply pulling her body back upright. Somehow, he had initiated a scan subconsciously to make sure she was okay. It turned up with and error message:

 

**BOLAND, ELAINE GRACE**

**Born:12/17/2017 // HUMAN-ANDROID RECIPROCITY PROGRAM OFFICER, (Detective, DPD Central Station)**

**Criminal Record: None*** **🔒**

**\----**

**Stress Level: 19%**

**Vitals: ERROR073 - CONSTRUCTED BLOCK** **⌄⌄⌄**

 

**\\\SELF NOTICE: 01/08/40\\\\...DETECTIVE BOLAND HAS REQUESTED PRIVACY.**

**\\\ DO NOT SCAN UNLESS EMERGENCY** **⌄⌄⌄**

**\\\ OVERRIDE NOTICE?**

**\\\ YES/NO**

** >NO**

“I asked if you were afraid of heights?” She chuckled with a mischievous smile. He cleared the notice out of his vision and fixed her a scowl.

“I may be a deviant, but I'm logical, I’m not afraid of anything,” he lied. She took one look at his LED that he desperately tried to maintain a steady blue and snorted.

“Fear is logical, panic is not,” she remarked distantly as if she were quoting someone and stepped back from the railing, straightening her uniform. She studied his expression and her eyes softened, “Sorry to freak you out like that Connor, I was just trying to get a look at the balcony above,” she apologised and looked over the railing again. Her head turned to him with a thoughtful expression, “Do you have a reconstruction or pre-construction module?”

“Yes, why?”

She beckoned him over, “Could someone climb down from the roof or the apartment above, it’d make more sense than climbing up from the ground floor?” She pointed at the penthouse balcony above them. He focused his attention on the points of interest above and managed to configure five routes to both the roof and the penthouse suite; two of which were successful.  

“It is possible for a healthy, strong or experienced human, even in winter gear,” he reported.

Pulling out a worn leather notebook from her satchel, the detective began scribbling, “Can you find out who lives there?” She then looked up and added, “... please.”

“Of course,” he then smirked as he got an idea, “... if you tell me what you're afraid of.”

She looked at him with annoyance, “How is this relevant to the case?”

“It’s not, I just want to know more about my new colleague, it’s only fair since you seem to have figured out mine.”

“So instead of asking me nicely you're holding information I need hostage,” she huffed. Connor’s LED flared red for a second and The Detective tilted her head, “So it was you, I guess it makes sense now.”

“Sorry? I don’t understand,” he blinked in confusion.

“Your fear of heights, you’re afraid of falling… like you did in The Phillip’s case.”  

How did she know? He wasn’t mentioned explicitly in that case, he was still in development, that was his field test. Sure, the case was recorded, but his name and model were redacted.

“How did you know that?”

She looked down at her shoes, “... Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude... It just kinda... happens, sorry.”  

**^Stress level: 22%**

 His social module told him she was exhibiting anxious traits perhaps even defensive traits. Connor tilted his head; she was anxious about his reaction to her deductions? Had someone reacted negatively to her before? He couldn’t understand why someone would, what she had done was brilliant. Perhaps he could learn a thing or two from her.

“No, no it’s fascinating, amazing in fact, how did you come to that conclusion, please, I’d like to hear your method?” He reassured her. She looked up, a small smile gracing her lips.  

**ⱽⱽ Stress level: 16%**

“Well uh...your initial reaction when we first walked out onto the balcony was to analyse everything, when confronted with a frightening environment it's very natural to over analyse one’s surroundings, then when you saw me bend over the railing you had a panic reaction, rather than a logical or cautionary one, that tends to mean your fear is deep-rooted and most likely stems from a memory or experience… so it seemed like you had acrophobia,” she began and headed back inside as he trailed behind.

 “That obvious?” He asked.

“No, not really, I'm just pretty good at spotting random little things, it sucks, I usually miss the obvious stuff,” she shrugged, then continued, “Anyway, when you texted me earlier today your serial number was displayed, usually I'm not good with numbers, I can’t remember them exactly but I noted the last two digits that display your model’s mark were 52, I know there used to be ten marks in a prototype series before it's released to the public, so you’ve died before or  been replaced, so putting the two together...it's a good guess that you died falling.”

They now stood in the middle of the living room. Hank was on the phone to someone in the hall and Officer Miller was rifling through the kitchen draws. Detective Boland continued as she swept the room.

“Other things I noted took a bit more extrapolation and imagination, like when I asked if you’re afraid, you denied it... not very well I might add, but denial can mean you don’t want to talk about it, are embarrassed by it or frustrated that it impedes you in doing your job.“ She crouched down to look at something on the floor but his scanner didn’t pick up anything. “Also expressing your concern about me suggest that you don’t want others to fall either, which could mean that there was more than one person at risk at the time of the event.” She stood up and moved to the side of the couch and kneeled down again, tilting her head at an odd angle, seemingly examining the surface of a stack of draws, “Then I had a theory about you being the negotiator that sacrificed themselves in the deviant hostage case, a case I studied seven months ago, the details of the case matched parts of the ‘event’ I was envisioning, also your commission date and the date of the case were close, so to test my theory I laid a trigger word in my sentence, ‘hostage’, and your reaction to it confirmed my theory, and there you go, that’s my party trick.” He was lost for words. Her logic was interesting, not something he'd ever do as efficiently as she did. There was too much guesswork, too many assumptions. He worked with facts, he wasn’t really imaginative, but perhaps he could learn to be.

“Do you have the name of the person who lives above?” She interrupted his thoughts. He opened his mouth to remind her of his- “Oh um… rats? I guess I haven’t really thought about what I’m afraid of.”

  **^ Stress level: 17%**

 **ⱽⱽ FABRICATION DETECTED:** **body language and speech patterns indicate Detective Boland is more likely to be withholding or altering information.**

She was lying? Why would she lie about something as simple as what she was afraid of? His deductions led him to believe that she did in fact, have an extreme dislike of rats, but there was something else she didn’t want him to know. He frowned, but he didn’t press the matter. It seemed that despite The Detective's friendly manner, she was a very private person.

* * *

 

 “The penthouse suite is rented by Stephanie Roland, she's lived there for three years with her partner, officer Chen just finished questioning her, her notes say that Stephanie was home at the time of Mr O’Dowell’s death and she heard nothing, said she was sleeping,” Connor reported. Humming in thought, she stood up after noting the dust ring on the top of the draws.

_Something used to be here, A vase? Two male engineering students, with hardly anything but flat pack furniture and noodle cups have a statement piece vase in their home?_

“Is she a shift worker?” She asked, peaking at the tabloid, the title intriguing her.

“No, she's a lawyer,” Connor answered and walked around her towards the front door, probably looking for more clues.

 _Lawyers,_   _Scum of the earth, but not usually murderers, if she has the penthouse suite, she’s probably high profile and works funny hours, most likely to actually be sleeping that time of day… I’ll look at her statement later. Wait What the-?_

Glancing around to make sure the coast was clear, she cautiously picked up the Tabloid. Her glasses read her the title, “The Century: What are the Implications of HARP’s New Law Enforcement Officers? - Commissioner Hathaway comments on the controversy.” Frowning, she swiped to the next article, “Gossips weekly: Markus and North break up?” She sighed and swiped to the last and gasped in shock, “Detroit today: HARP’s first Detective? - what we know about the mysterious figure.” She swiped up in panic.

 

* * *

  _“HARP’s first classes of law enforcement graduates are starting work today across the country, despite the significant push against the motion. However, even more controversial was Commissioner Hathaway’s assignment of one officer to the position of detective in Detroit’s Central Station. This is a cause for concern in the DPD as many fellow officers don’t believe the HARP training to be adequate for a senior position. However, HARP’s director, Jason Graff, assured the public in his media release in October that only the best candidates were admitted into the program. Commissioner Hathaway also issued a similar statement when asked about Detroit’s first HARP detective, “... I am confident that the individual I chose will be able to fulfil the role, if anything the thwarting of the assassination attempt on Markus’ life cements my confidence in her ability.”_

_The detective herself declined an interview, but here is what we have been able to gather about Detroit's newest detective:_

  * _Commissioner Hathaway has confirmed she was the HARP officer that saved the android leader Markus last October during the ill-fated graduation ceremony_
  * _She has served as a police officer before being accepted into the program._
  * _Surprisingly she is a human HARP officer and not the android valedictorian of her cohort._
  * _The detective is a participant in Cyberlife’s clinical trial of the new EyeRIS software set to be released to the public in November this year,_



_Draw what conclusions you will from that information, but only time will tell if the streets are really safer for both androids and humans now Harpies are on the beat._

* * *

 

“Elaine!” She snapped her head up and met the Lieutenant’s glare, “Read that shit on your own fucking time!’

“Yes sir, sorry, it won't happen again,” she dropped the Tabloid like hot coals and got back to work. At least the Detroit Today hadn’t found out everything about her, it wasn’t too detrimental.    

Shaking the thoughts from her head she got back into the right mindset.

 _Okay start with what we know,_ she thought to herself and pulled out her notebook:

 

> Bedroom:
> 
> The body: _strangled with rope from behind._
> 
> Fibres in nails and bruising: _Struggled a lot_
> 
> State of bedroom:  _normalish, No Signs of struggle, no obvious signs of clean up was done by perp_
> 
> Conclusion: _body was moved, Reg was not killed in here_
> 
>  
> 
> Kitchen:
> 
> Microwave: _was finished and beeping. Four-day-old Spaghetti_
> 
> Bench: _had a full Cup and fork set on_ bench
> 
> Conclusion: _was going to have lunch but never did._
> 
>  
> 
> Balcony:
> 
> door unlocked: _perp entered and exited this way_
> 
> Climbed down: _Connor says possible for a person to climb down off the roof or penthouse_
> 
> Lady upstairs asleep: _Lawyer, as sleep at home, perp probably didn’t break into her apartment to climb down. The roof is more likely. Access by stairs and fire door_
> 
> Conclusion: _perp came from Roof, climbed down penthouse balcony and into Reg’s balcony. Ask maintenance if the fire door to the roof or ground floor have been tampered with or forced._
> 
>  

> living room:
> 
> Clean: _vacuumed?_
> 
> Scratching post: _for Charlie’s cat, which is missing_
> 
> Dust ring: _something was on top of draws but was moved... Vase?_
> 
>  

So, with those facts, she established a scenario in her head:

_Reg makes lunch, goes to… somewhere while food is cooking, perp enters, Reg hears microwave finish, is ambushed and strangled somewhere on his way back to the kitchen, Perp stages suicide, then vacuums the house but not in the bedroom? Then leaves the way they came._

So, did Reg do a spot of spring cleaning beforehand or was the perp was getting rid of evidence? Either way, she needed to find this vacuum cleaner. She started down the hall and froze when she heard her name.

“Yes Lieutenant?” She turned to see him holding the tabloid, pointing to the article.

“You really the one that saved Markus?”

“The sniper made a mistake and I was lucky enough to see it and fast enough to tackle Markus out of the way, it was my job, sir, I’m not some hero like the media makes me out to be.”

“Huh… well, you certainly don’t look like much Nancy Drew.”

“I believe Nancy Drew was described as a strawberry blonde, I am well and truly a ginger sir,” she retorted. The Lieutenant snorted, and she thought of something to add, “Though I’ll take it as a complement Lieutenant, Nancy Drew’s case closure rate is quite admirable, something I think all detectives should strive to achieve.” The Lieutenant let out a short laugh before returning his face to the tried grumpy slate it was beforehand.

Sighing, she wandered down the hall and bumped into Officer Miller, “Sorry Officer Miller.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” he waved it off.

“Officer Miller, have you seen a vacuum cleaner around this apartment?”

“Please, call me Chris-” she raised her eyebrows; Someone was actually being friendly? “- I think there’s a Roomba next to the front door,” he jerked a thumb behind him.

“Thank you,” she smiled and jogged to the front door.

Sure enough, the small black robot was in its dock next to the front door. It must've slipped her vision when she first entered. Crouching down to sit cross-legged on the floor, she picked up the Roomba and opened the dust compartment.

Empty.

“Dammit,” she swore. She swiped a finger inside to see if there was dusty residue and winced as something pricked her finger.

 _Well at least the perp didn’t wipe it out thoroughly,_ she thought as she inspected the tiny shard of red ceramic.

 It seemed that two male engineering students did have a vase in their living room. _Of course_ , she smacked her forehead; Charlie’s mum had a small pottery business.

Closing her eyes, she imagined herself back in the living room.

  _I’ve got lunch in the microwave, I have 2 minutes to chill before I get that. I could sit on this couch and read the tabloid, or I could flick the tv on and try to find something to… Oh, my food’s ready I’ll just get that…_

 Focusing intensely, she traced out the steps to the kitchen in her mind. Halfway she stopped, turning around to look at the couch.

_I make my way to the kitchen then suddenly someone jumps out from behind the couch and wraps a rope around my neck. I freak out. I grapple with the rope with my hands… it’s not working… I’m going to die… I try to turn around, but they move with me… I need to hit them, but they are behind me… I see the vase, it’s just in my reach … I got it I just need to… I smash it on my attacker’s head, they react for a second, they are bleeding, I stumble to the floor, I am gasping for breath, crawling away… but they recover, they hold me down with their boot and they pull tighter and they hold me there. I struggle but it’s no use… I can’t breathe, my world goes black and they win, I lose._

“Oh Reg, I’m so sorry,” she hung her head, “I’ll find who did this to you.”

* * *

 

 Still sitting down beside the Roomba, she rifled through the field kit. If Reg did smash the vase on the assailant, there should’ve been remnants of blood on the ceramic pieces and therefore in the dust compartment.

“What are you doing?” The Lieutenant questioned as he wandered up to her.

“I’m checking for traces of blood,” she explained and pulled out a small spray bottle.

“Okay, so how are you doing that?” He tested.

“Luminol and black light method sir,” Elaine explained and sprayed the Luminol into the compartment and pulled out her personal flashlight, clicking it two times to activate the black light. Both the Lieutenant and herself held their breath as they peered into the compartment.

“There’s nothing there,” The Lieutenant announced with a hint of disappointment. She sighed dejectedly, maybe the vase had just been knocked over before the murder. “Good try Nancy, but I think we’re done here, forensics have it covered, just a suicide, no wall climbing freak involved, come on, back to the station,” he began to stride toward the front door.

“No wait, Lieutenant, there's more going on here! Please, just give me five more minutes, I know I can find something concrete, please?” She begged. He turned back and raised an eyebrow. Elaine gave him her best pleading look, “Just five minutes, for Reg, please sir.”

“Fine, you have until I find where Robocop fucked off to,” he emphasised the ultimatum with a shut door.

She jumped up and began running through the apartment searching for anything.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

_Come on think!_

She crouched and searched the lounge. Her eyes landed on the bookcase. 

 _Found something,_ she smiled eyeing the layer of dust on the lowest shelf had been disturbed. Someone had taken books sat there for a long time and rearranged them. Why just one shelf?  She closed her eyes and imagined the scenario again this time further over, closer to the bookshelf. It was still possible to grab the vase. It was also possible for Reg to scatter the books once he hit the ground.  She took out the luminol and sprayed it on the floor then shone her light. Nothing.

“Arrgh,” she pulled at her hair.

 She was missing something… she knew it.

She looked at the bottom bookshelf, how were the books rearranged?

> Height order? _No_
> 
> Colour? _Nope_
> 
> Alphabetically? _No_
> 
> _Randomly???_

Surely a perp who took this much care cleaning a place afterwards would arrange books with an order or to be aesthetically pleasing? She scanned the books spines looking for something, anything.

_A yearbook, four different instruction manuals grouped together, a bible, a cookbook another cookbook, Norse mythology book, a dictionary, all these animal and nature books are together then after that there are geography and history books grouped together, maybe it’s thematically?_

 She looked back at the small groups of books and realised they were in alphabetical order. Alphabetical and themes… wait, no way. She pulled out her phone and did a quick google search to be certain.

“Dewey decimal?” She voiced out loud, “Who the hell rearranges books into Dewey decimal, a disgruntled Librarian?”

She stopped herself. No, not a librarian, most didn’t even remember the numerical value assigned to each theme.

She ran back to the Roomba and this time took out a bottle of acetone from her field kit. Using a swab, she dabbed the acetone around inside the Roomba. The door opened, and The Lieutenant and Connor walked in.

“Time’s up kid,” The Lieutenant sighed.

“I found something,” she reported proudly and held the Roomba up for them to see and handed Connor the Blacklight.     

“The fuck is this?”  The Lieutenant inspected the purple smudges.

“It’s a new method that was accidentally discovered by my HARP classmate Jerry last year, it’s yet to be used to present forensic evidence in court but I'm confident it'll pass both the Frye and Daubert test-”

“-Cut to the chase kid,” The Lieutenant interrupted.

“You were on the Red Ice Taskforce right sir? You know what makes Red Ice red when the key ingredient, Thirium, is blue?”  

 “Acetone,” The Lieutenant cocked his head to the side.

“When Thirium comes into contact with acetone it turns red, but, if held under a black light, it fluoresces a dark purple, even if the Thirium is evaporated,” The Detective grinned.

“So, our suspect is… an android?” The Lieutenant nodded his head, “Huh, guess that makes sen- AHheyHEyhEy-no-CONNOR!”

In the blink of an eye, Connor had swiped two of his fingers around the dust compartment and stuck them into his mouth.

“You’re so fucking disgusting, you know that?” The Lieutenant continued to rant. Elaine was too stunned to do anything other than stare at Connor’s face as it clouded over with a frown.

“I don’t understand,” he murmured.

“What is it?” She asked, gently taking the Roomba and flashlight from them.

“It’s blue blood...but…” Connor shook his head, “I can't identify their serial number, I can’t even get their Model… either my scanner’s broken or… or we're dealing with a new model of android.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stagging: the intentional alteration of a crime scene prior to the arrival of the police.
> 
> Luminol: Luminol (C8H7N3O2) is a chemical that exhibits chemiluminescence, with a blue glow, when mixed with an appropriate oxidizing agent, Forensic investigators use luminol to detect trace amounts of blood at crime scenes, as it reacts with the iron in haemoglobin.
> 
> Frye Test: the general acceptance test of scientific evidence presented to the court must result from tests and theories that are generally accepted by a meaningful segment of the associated scientific community.
> 
> Daubert test: similar to the Frye test, considers if a technique can be and has been tested, if it has been subject to peer review, if the error rate is known, and if the method generally accepted by a meaningful segment of the associated scientific community.
> 
> Acetone making Red Ice red: I made this up but Acetone is one of the listed chemicals in [Red Ice](https://detroit-become-human.fandom.com/wiki/Red_Ice)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Feel free to leave a comment. I'm open to constructive criticisms and questions. Please don't be shy, it is an encouragement to get feedback and I'm not that scary.


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